Page 42 of Not My Greek Wedding

‘Ibiza?’ I’m a little surprised as surely the tourist season is similar to here.

‘Sometimes I spot up-and-coming DJs in the smaller clubs that still operate in the cooler months,’ he says, answering my question. ‘Then I might invite them here to work at the club the following summer.’

‘Oh, I see. Gosh, you truly never are off duty, are you?’

‘I told you the club is my life. I always make time for a little relaxation though. I believe the phrase is “work hard, play hard”.’

He gazes at me in such a way that I can feel those tingles again. ‘Are you ready for that swim now?’ he asks.

‘Sure,’ I say, thinking that cooling off in the water is exactly what I need to do.

He calls out in Greek to the captain on the upper deck, and a few minutes later we have anchored in the crystal-clear water. Christos pulls the white T-shirt he is wearing over his head, to reveal a most impressive six-pack.

He produces some goggles and snorkels from a storage trunk and hands me some.

‘It is the best way to see what lies beneath the water,’ he explains.

Lowering myself into the water from a ladder, I can feel his eyes on me. As I reach the water, I am surprised to find the water a little warmer than I anticipated, and enjoy the feeling as it washes over my skin.

Christos is standing on the deck of the boat, and he does a perfect dive into the water and soon appears at my side.

‘Impressive dive,’ I tell him. ‘Do you practise?’

‘Who wouldn’t living here?’ He glances around. ‘And yes, I practised a lot to perfect my dive. I like to strive for perfection in everything I do,’ he says proudly.

We explore the blue-green water, my breath taken away by the sight of the colourful sea life as I swim below the surface.

I’m thrilled to spot a baby octopus swim by and I tell Christos, who takes my hand in his and guides me to a spot where dozens of rainbow-coloured fish are crowded around a rock. It’s all so magical. I could easily see myself living like this, spending days on the water and sipping champagne. I’m not sure how anyone could ever tire of this lifestyle.

After exploring the nearby waters we remove our goggles and snorkels, and Christos throws them up onto the deck, before we swim and lounge around in the glorious sea. I dream of havingthis life and can hardly believe that I go home to continue my job search in a few days’ time.

I flip onto my back, and stare up at the warm sun, never wanting this afternoon to end, as Christos playfully flicks water over me.

He disappears from sight for a second and I squeal as he reappears and I am suddenly hoisted up onto his shoulders from beneath the water.

We laugh, and swim some more, before we find ourselves drying off in the sunshine back on the deck of the yacht.

‘That was wonderful.’ I sigh, stretching out on my sunlounger, feeling the heat of the sun massage me all over. ‘What a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.’ I can hardly believe that someone like me could be experiencing this type of luxury. ‘Thank you for bringing me here today.’

‘It is my pleasure.’ He smiles. ‘Are you ready for that refill now?’ he says, reaching for the bottle, and I gratefully accept another glass. Just then a waiter appears with a mixed meze of dips and bread, along with a platter of melon and grapes.

‘This looks amazing,’ I say, hungrily, tucking into the tasty buffet.

I ask him some more questions about his life, but he seems more interested in topping up my glass.

When the yacht eventually docks back at the harbour, Christos dismisses the staff and I feel wonderfully relaxed. Especially when below deck, he wraps his arms around my waist and draws me to him. When he kisses me, it feels like a thousand fireworks are going off all around the harbour.

‘There is more to see on the yacht,’ he says breathlessly, before he takes me by the hand and leads me to a room and pushes the door open. I glimpse the room that has a huge bed at its centre.

I am captivated by Christos and the seductive surroundings, but something brings me to my senses.

‘Christos, I have had a wonderful day, but I really think I ought to be going,’ I say, realising the champagne has gone to my head slightly. Thank goodness I had no more than a couple of glasses.

‘Are you sure?’ He kisses me gently on the neck, and my resolve almost disappears.

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ I say, feeling in a quandary. Part of me thinks, where is the harm in spending the afternoon with him here?

‘Of course,’ he says, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘Whatever you want.’

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